


A Blanket in a Blizzard

by Persiflage



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Blankets, Blizzards & Snowstorms, Comfort Food, F/M, First Kiss, First Time, Future Fic, Huddling For Warmth, Hurt/Comfort, Implied Sexual Content, Inspired by Fanart, Kissing, Older Man/Younger Woman, POV Skye | Daisy Johnson, Skye | Daisy Johnson's Superpowers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-25
Updated: 2017-04-25
Packaged: 2018-10-23 22:38:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,509
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10728711
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Persiflage/pseuds/Persiflage
Summary: Daisy and Coulson huddle for warmth, and eventually one thing leads to another.





	A Blanket in a Blizzard

**Author's Note:**

  * For [hamsterfactor](https://archiveofourown.org/users/hamsterfactor/gifts), [Skyepilot](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Skyepilot/gifts).



> This fic was inspired by [this fanart](http://lastcenturykindagirl.tumblr.com/post/159889934889/cousy-blanket-cuddles-happy-birthday) by Skyepilot for Hamsterfactor's birthday.

"Are you okay?" 

Phil's voice is full of worry as he wraps the blanket around them both, then tightens his left arm around Daisy.

"C-c-cold and t-tired," she mumbles through chattering teeth. "Hungry."

"I'm sorry," he tells her. "If you hadn't come after me – "

"Ph-Phil. As if I'd ever n-not c-come after you." She wishes she could stop shivering, she might be able to reassure him a bit more. She also wishes they hadn't got caught in a blizzard that came out of absolutely nowhere before she could get them to the airfield where the Zephyr's supposed to be rendezvousing with them. Or that she hadn't used up her powers so extensively in rescuing Phil from the thugs who kidnapped him – she could probably 'quake' a path through the snowdrifts if she wasn't too tired.

She lifts her right hand, trying to pat his cheek, but her coordination's shot and she ends up putting her hand over his mouth. He doesn't seem to mind, and she's sure he's just pressed a kiss to her fingers, but she's half way to passing out, so maybe she dreamt that bit.

If only the SUV's engine hadn't stalled in the snow – they could run the heater then, and they'd be a bit less cold. She cuddles closer to Phil; she doesn’t want to die, but if she's going to, she's grateful that she'll die with him; of course she doesn't want him to die either, but she knows it'd be useless to suggest he leave her here and go on ahead – there's no way he'd do that.

She feels consciousness slipping away from her and although she tries to fight it, to stay awake and keep Phil company until the end, she can't.

DJ-PC-DJ-PC-DJ

Daisy wakes to the vibrations of the Zephyr, and for one confused moment she's convinced she's dreaming, then a soft familiar voice says, "Daisy," and she turns her head to see Phil sitting beside her bed – and realises she's in the Z1's infirmary.

"Phil," she says, and her voice sounds so scratchy that she doesn't recognise it.

"Let me get you some water," he says, and quickly crosses the room to grab a cup of water from the cooler in the corner.

He brings it back, and she struggles to sit upright – but not for long because he sets the cup aside, then eases her up against the pillows. "How are you?" he asks as he passes her the cup.

She drinks it greedily before she answers. "Not cold," she says, "but still hungry and a bit tired." She touches her hand to the back of his prosthetic. "What happened?"

"The blizzard finally eased up after about four hours. I was able to signal the Zephyr and the team came and dug us out." He rubs his face. "Dr Simmons says we were lucky not to suffer from hypothermia or frostbite."

"Sorry," she says, and he looks surprised.

"Why are you sorry?" he asks. "I'm the one who should be apologising. If I – "

"Phil." She doesn't hesitate to interrupt him. "I told you, I'll never not come and get you."

"I know, but – " he starts again, sounding frustrated, and she sits up and grabs his arm.

"Phil," she says sternly. "Today wasn't your fault, okay? We survived, didn't we? A little the worse for wear, maybe, but not too much. No major injuries, no frostbite or hypothermia."

He sighs, then nods, and she's glad he's admitting defeat and not beating himself up any more. "I should let Dr Simmons know you're awake," he says.

"Yeah, I'd like to get out of here. How long until we get back to the base?"

"A couple more hours," he says, crossing the room again to call Jemma. "Time for me to fix you something to eat."

"Phil – " she begins. She loves it when he cooks for her, she's not going to lie, but she also always feels a bit guilty when he does – after all, he doesn't cook for anyone else.

"Daisy," he says, frowning, and she subsides, much as he'd done just now when she'd been chiding him. He nods, then calls Jemma, before coming back to her side. "I'll go and see what we've got in the galley. I expect Dr Simmons will let you out of here, so I'll meet you in the Director's cabin."

"Okay," she says softly, and he smiles, then surprises her by leaning down to press his lips to her hair. Before she can recover from her surprise at that Jemma comes in, and Phil goes out, so she can't ask him why he's suddenly taken to kissing her. (Yes, it's only twice, if he did, in fact, kiss her fingers a few hours ago, but still he's never done it before.)

She forces herself to focus her attention on Jemma as she begins asking Daisy a host of questions: the mystery of Phil kissing her will have to wait.

DJ-PC-DJ-PC-DJ

When Phil joins her in the Director's cabin he brings her some grilled cheese sandwiches – which is totally expected because it's pretty much his signature dish where she's concerned. There's also a big bowl of chicken noodle soup, some thick slices of bread to go with the soup, a chocolate milkshake, and a couple of Little Debbie snack cakes. He sets the laden tray down on the coffee table in front of the couch where she's sitting and gives her a cute smile.

"You're the best," she tells him happily, and he chuckles.

"I do my best," he says. He goes to move away but she clasps his wrist.

"Stay, please?" she asks, and he immediately sinks down beside her on the couch.

"Are you okay?" he asks, sounding worried.

"I will be once I've eaten," she assures him. She grabs the bowl of soup and begins to eat, savouring the flavour and the warmth of it.

He starts talking about the mission, and she responds between mouthfuls of food, and he eventually relaxes beside her, his vibrations evening out so that she can sense his contentment at seeing her eat.

Once she's finished eating, she turns towards him, pulling her legs up onto the couch, and he smiles. "Better?"

"Much, thank you."

He shakes his head. "Least I could do," he tells her.

She takes a good look at him, and asks, "What about you? Are you okay? They didn't – "

"They barely got started," he says quickly, obviously wanting to reassure her. "Then this avenging angel appeared out of nowhere and started quaking their asses."

She chuckles. "Avenging angel?"

He nods. "My white knight," he says fondly. Then more softly, "My saviour."

"Phil," she says, then reaches up and cups his cheek, enjoying the sensation of his scruff against her skin. He's staring at her – one of those stupidly intense looks he seems to give her all too frequently, and she doesn't think, she just leans in and presses her lips to his.

"Daisy," he whispers, and cups both her cheeks in his hands before returning her kiss with interest.

She isn't conscious of moving, but when they finally pull apart to breathe, she discovers she's straddling his lap. She rocks against him, aware that he's aroused, as is she, and he groans softly.

"You want this," she says, not making it a question because it's not a question: it's perfectly obvious he does.

"I want you," he says firmly, and slides his hands up her thighs. She finds herself wishing she was wearing a dress instead of her field suit pants: she wants his hands on her bare skin.

"Good," she says. When he raises an eyebrow, she elaborates: "I've wanted you from the beginning."

He kisses her, rather more aggressively than before, and she moans into his mouth as she rapidly unbuttons his shirt: she wants her hands on his bare skin.

DJ-PC-DJ-PC-DJ

Thirty minutes later, they're showered and dressed again, and Daisy feels a bit like she's walking on air. Phil sneaks in a lingering kiss before they leave the Director's cabin, and she spreads her hand over his heart, feeling it thump beneath her fingers.

"You're the best," she tells him again, and he smirks.

"I do my best," he repeats.

"Your best is very good, Phil, although I think I'm gonna need repeat demonstrations to ensure you maintain a consistent level of quality."

He chuckles, and cups her ass with his left hand, pressing her body firmly against his. "I'm sure that can be arranged Agent Johnson."

"Excellent news, Agent Coulson. Please see to it."

She kisses him, less lingeringly and more passionately, then pulls away, and precedes him out of the door. They'll be landing soon, so it's time they put in an appearance – she doesn't want her team worrying unduly about her.

She feels Phil's hand at the small of her back, and she thinks that having 'permission' to touch Phil and be touched by him is going to be nearly as pleasurable as the actual sex.

She might actually forgive that blizzard after all.


End file.
